Footprints left in the Snow
by LotusRoseBlossom
Summary: [Fool me once, shame on you Fool me twice, shame on me] Those words seemed to live in the minds of Alfred and Kiku as they try to live normaly after the war that left them both heartbroken and scared, searching for answers that they don't know how to ask for
1. Chapter 1

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{PlayList: Selected: Back to December- Taylor Swift 4:50}

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**_I'm so glad you made time to see me. . . How's life? Tell me, how's your family? I haven't seen them in a while. . ._**

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_Peggy Sue's 50's Diner _

– **Calico Mountains **

_December 13, 1954 _

Conversations floated around the relatively small diner, as people went about their day as usually. At the counter, a tired mother with her hair up in a lazy bun bought her son, a rowdy 7-year old a sundae. An old couple talked over a cup of coffee. A crowd of teenagers hassle a female waitress, irritating her by making her bring food and drinks back and forth. The man at the cashier struggled with a cast on his arm, and the cooks behind the window sleepily cooked up food that a newlywed couple had ordered up in-between loving smiles and fond touches. The overhead fans spun lazily even though it was snowing calmly outside. Red booths lined a wall, facing out into the cold morning. The floor was decorated in black and white checker patterns and an old juke box played a Vera Lynn tune.

The irate waitress, in her pink collared shirt and black mini apron tied over a poufy pink skirt huffed past the corner booth, flipping her blond ponytail out of the way as she made her way to order another round of 'Doris Day Omelets' and 'Hot Rod Hot Cakes'. She paused and glanced back at the sad-looking fellow sitting in the corner, a cup of steaming tea clenched in-between small hands. He had on a royal blue pea coat with a mint green scarf wrapped casually around his neck. He was looking down, so she couldn't see his closed eyes and his trembling knees. She shrugged and kept walking to the kitchen as she heard those damn brats catcalls follow her. She couldn't wait until she left this damn town.

And just like that, the world around them went on ignoring the 'sad-looking fellow'. To his neighbors and the rest of the world he was just another Japanese, seeking redemption from their homeland. But to his 'co-workers' and superiors he was Japan, a nation still feeling the effects of a horrible war, one that the world had never witnessed before. No, no one in the diner suspected that this 'sad looking fellow' was, in fact, a nation disguised as a common civilian waiting for another one of his kind to walk in at any moment.

Kiku Honda, otherwise known as Japan, opened his wide, frightened brown eyes to look around the room once more. He shifted nervously in his corner booth, the plastic creaking underneath him. He'd strategically picked this spot so he could see the moment _He _walked in. He looked out the diner window, releasing his hold he had on the green cup and sipped at his tea to calm his nerves. He looked through the busy crowd, searching for that unmistakable blond head of hair. The snow fell serenely, in contrast with his fluttering stomach. _Will he come? _he thought, scared he'd decided not to show. He sighed, but it was only to be expected, since last December . . . he cringed at the memory, fiddling with the buttons on his peacoat. His breathing accelerated, as it always did, when he tried to remember those horrible months leading up to-

He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes again, bowing his head.

_Enough! It was meant to be, when one goes against the laws and regu-_

"Kiku?"

Kiku's eyes snapped open to stare at the water ringed table and his heart speed up at the sound of _that_ voice. He slowly raised his head and looked into those blue, blue eyes. His breath caught in his throat.

"Alfred-san. . ." his voice came out breathy. He took in the personification of the United States of America, or Alfred F. Jones to everyone who knew him well enough to know. He wore dark jeans and blue converse. He'd ditched his ever-present bomber jacket, which Kiku was thankful for because the memories it carried with it were too much for him right now, when it was still so fresh in his mind. Instead he wore a white t-shirt that said 'I heart NY' in big scrawling letters, the heart a bright red. Over that he had on a white sleeved, brown letterman jacket with a capital 'A' on the front. His hands were stuffed into the pockets and his glasses glinted, reflecting the neon pink lights advertising their world-famous 'Hula Hoop Onion Rings'.

An awkward moment followed while they just stared at each other in silence. Finally Alfred cleared his throat and nodded to the booth. "Can I . . .?"

"Oh!" Kiku blinked and blushed a little. He prided himself on his manners and here he was, not offering him a seat.

_Even if they were former enemies _. . .

"Yes, please, sit," he said, hastily, gesturing to the seat across from him.

"Thanks." He took the seat, placing his hands on the table, looking around, presumably for the waitress. Another customer walked in, letting in a blast of cold air that jolted Kiku awake. What was he thinking, asking him to meet him up after so long?

Kiku looked away, mustering up his courage. "So, how is Arthur-san and Matthew-kun? Are they well?"

Alfred shrugged, still trying to call down the waitress, busy with the teens. "They're doing alright, I guess. Excuse me?" he turned away to wave down a passing waitress.

"That is good," Kiku didn't know what else to say. He barely paid attention as an energetic girl came to their booth, smiling brightly at Alfred. He didn't know why he'd asked him to come in the first place. It was on impulse. He had just found himself calling his number. And now, here they were face-to-face at last and all he felt was . . .lost.

"Yes? What ya' want, Big Daddy?" the cute red-head giggled, looking Alfred over. She flipped open a notepad to take an order.

"Hey, Dolly, what's good?" Alfred winked, making her giggle more. She rolled her green eyes.

"Don't have a cow, now, Daddy-O. I'm committed." She brandished a ring on her left ring finger.

"Ain't that a bite?" Alfred mocked he was wounded, clutching his heart.

She snapped her gum. "That's right, flutter bum."

"Oh, well in that case I'll take the next best thing. I'll have whatever he's-" He glanced over at Kiku, who'd been left dumbfounded at their boggling speech. Kiku looked down at his cup of tea. Alfred wrinkled his nose. Kiku almost smiled, he was certain Alfred had been about to say 'whatever he's having' but changed his mind when he'd seen it was tea he was drinking. He shook his head. He'd never acquired a taste for it, had he? He remembered when he'd introduced Japanese tea to him-

He stopped smiling abruptly, looking at his cup before putting it aside.

"Coffee, then." Alfred turned to the waitress again and smiled.

"You got it, bundie," she snapped her gum once more before walking away, humming to the jukebox. Alfred smiled at her before turning to face Kiku again. The smile remained, but his eyes lost some of their warmth. They sat in silence, other conversation drifting over to their tense corner. Kiku's stomach was in knots at this point, watching Alfred watching a little toddler jumping up and down in his stroller. He picked at the chipping table and bit his lip.

_What to say? _

He finally took a deep breath, mustered up his courage, and opened his mouth to end this torturing silence that grated on his nerves.

"I-" he began, looking up.

"So-" Alfred said at the same time facing him fully for the first time.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" he stammered, cheeks blushing a light pink.

"Nah, its okay," Alfred gave a short chuckle, casting his eyes down. "No need to apologize."

"Ah, yes well. . ." Kiku looked out the window, trying to find his bearings.

_I do. _

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**_Dedicated to Rjanarielle, who really helped me. Sorry it took so long, and I had to tweak here and there. . . But the first chapters up now_**

**_Hope you enjoy all the angst I have planned - LotusRoseBlossom_**

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**_Continue?_**


	2. Chapter 2

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{PlayList: Selected: Back to December- Taylor Swift 4:50}

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**_You've been good, busier than ever. . . We small talk, work and the weather. . . Your guard is up, and I know why. . ._**

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Kiku placed his hands in his lap as the Red-head came bounding over, carrying a pot of coffee and a tray with a cup of milk and cream and little packets of sugar.

"Here you are, Sugar Cakes," she said, placing it all on their little table. "We got milk or cream, whichever pleases ya', and sugar. That fine, Hun?"

"That's good, Baby, thanks." Alfred winks at her again, calling out as she walks away. "Give me a holler if that boy of yours leaves ya'!"

"Not happening," she calls back, not turning around. Alfred chuckles, shaking his head, before turning to fix himself a cup of coffee. Again the jukebox changed tunes and 'No other love (Have I)' came on, its soothing piano coaxing the couples in the diner to get up and dance. It also made Kiku incredibly uncomfortable.

Kiku reached over to take a sip of his tea. The people around them went on dancing unaware of the two people in the corner booth, trying strongly to forget but not able to.

"Ho-how have you been Alfred-san?" he asked softly, hating the catch in his voice. He couldn't meet those intense eyes, so he watched his hands as he stirred in exactly to spoonfuls of cream and reached over to get three packets of sugar- no more, no less – and stir it all into his blue mug instead, not seeing the brief flash in his eyes. The stirring stopped.

Alfred sighed, putting the spoon to the side and bringing the cup up to his lips.

"Fine."

Kiku flinched at his abrupt reply, his heart aching for those peaceful days, in the beginning. It had been awkward at first, yes, but once he'd hesitantly let him in . . . those days had been the best in is long, long life. And he'd ruined it all, hadn't he? He put those thoughts aside for now, ignoring the lump they brought to his throat.

_Change the subject, Kiku, come on_

"How are things at work? It's been cold lately, hasn't it?" he said looking up, trying to smile but failing.

"Yeah," was all he got. Alfred looked into his cup before setting it down, with maybe a little too much force, and resumed looking out the window, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kiku took the time to study his face. He looked different, older he supposed, unlike his old cheerful self. His old self would have smiled and joked at the cheap coffee and the eccentric names on the menu. Or would have begged and pleaded for him to dance to the song, like all the other people who laughed and clapped as a little boy pulled his shy little sister into a dance, or the brash teenager that pulled the annoyed blond onto the dance floor saying into her ear 'Come on snake, let's rattle!' with a winning smile. He'd say anything; _do_ anything, just to see him act like that again. To see his blue eyes light up again in pure joy. He'd missed his voice, his smile, his laughter, his teasing, his everything.

_So why did you hurt him?_ His conscious whispered to him. Kiku shook his head looking away from him. Too much, it was just too much.

"So, ah, ho-how has um . . ." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. He had never been good at small talk. It had always been him that had talked, about the smallest things, and he'd listened and smiled at his childish attitude. Now all he wanted was to see that child again.

After another minute of silence, he heard Alfred mutter something.

Kiku furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What was that?"

Alfred scoffed, shaking his head. He turned to look Kiku in the eye, blue eyes on fire. "I said, Why the fuck are you doing this?"

Kiku felt his stomach clench painfully and his eyes widen. The happy sounds of the diner faded, so did the warmth. All he saw was that angry gaze directed at him. He was too shocked to reply. He just stared at him, his brown eyes wide. For a second he let his true feelings come through his gaze, vulnerable and scared, then he quickly composed himself, putting up that blank expression he always did, his shield. "I simply wanted to know how your doing, your pe-" he choked on the word, then went on. "That's a-"

"No, don't give me that bullshit." Alfred cut in angrily, fist coming down on the table harshly, rattling their cups and making Kiku jump. "You don't just call someone up you haven't seen in a _long _time out of the blue and ask them to see you." He looked into Kiku's eyes and he seemed to waver. He drew back his fist crossing his arms around his chest again. He shook his head in disgust.

"And stop asking about things you know you don't give a shit about, alright? It's getting on my nerves."

His outburst made Kiku draw back, as if he'd been slapped.

"Now quite stalling and get to the point, you're wasting my time. Unlike _you__,_ I actually have things to do." He looked at him expectedly, eyes cold and unforgiving. His expression reminded Kiku of the way Alfred's people had looked at Kiku's people as they were sent into-

Kiku took a shaky breath. He was so cold, so angry towards him. Kiku felt like crying, but didn't. He deserved this, he told himself. Every last insult, he deserved.

All this and more.

"Alright then." He whispered. "I won't try to bother you."

"Good."

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**_Continue?_**


	3. Chapter 3

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{PlayList: Selected: Back to December- Taylor Swift 4:50}

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**_Because the last time you saw me, is still burned in the back of your mind, you gave me roses, and I left them there to die . . ._**

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Kiku swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat and tears threatening to spill. He took a second to compose his expression, nodding mutely, staring into his cup of now lukewarm tea. He felt all his courage drain from him.

_Why did I do this? I'm simply hurting myself more. . ._

He cleared his throat before saying, "Alright."

His voice came out in a thick whisper. He gripped cup in front of him like a shield, putting it up to take a sip.

_Still stalling . . . _his mind whispered.

He grits his teeth, placing the cup to the side.

Alfred gave a curt nod glasses glinting dangerously.

He felt his stomach clench in fear, of being laughed at or worse.

"I- I," he knew what he wanted to say, knew what he had to do, it'd been years now since he'd done what he'd done to him.

He knew all this yes, but something inside him rebelled. He was not used to bowing down so easily and especially to someone so young. He tried to, he really had tried to forget, but it was humiliating to him, he'd made a mistake, he was aware, but the shame that it brought him was too great for him to bear. The other countries looked at him with either pity for what he'd received or anger for what he'd done.

Neither was what he wanted.

He just wanted to forget it. Forget all of it, the whole ordeal, had ever come to be. Or better yet, go back in time and fix everything, stop the events that had grown out of hand.

But to get past this, he had to acknowledge his wronging's, and ask for forgiveness. The mere thought left his heart racing and his hands shaking. He hadn't been there personally when his people had finally surrendered formally to them, he'd been left too weak by the-

He felt bile rise in his throat and his side throbbed in the memory of the agonizing pain that had followed _His _attack. He had been caught off guard. So had Alfred, he suspected. The magnitude of the bomb had left him reeling and powerless, he still felt it at times.

_Could he?_

Kiku took a shaky breath, dimly aware the song had changed once again. The crowd in the diner cheered at the song, the polka duet _Hoop-Dee-Do_ with Perry Como and the Fontane Sisters, ignorant of Kiku's pain and misery.

Too long, he was taking too long, that was what Alfred's expression read.

_Just get it over with, _he thought to himself, running his hands down his thighs. _Just do it and you'll never have to see him again. Two words, just say them. It will be just like ripping a Band-Aid off. Do it. _

But he couldn't. He couldn't force himself to get the words out.

He shook his head.

What did he plan to change by doing this? Why_was_ he the one having to do this? It was too painful. He couldn't do it.

No.

"I," he breathed out, making the mistake of looking up from his cold drink into Alfred's eyes.

They held no sympathy for him. All he saw was a sea of anger and resentment and something more.

Disgust.

He couldn't handle that stare.

He felt so small and insignificant under that gaze.

And scared.

Were they really the same he'd fallen in love with? Was it still really the same hue of baby blue that had enchanted and captivated him? Had they really once held only warmth and love? Made him feel safe and protected? What had changed?

"I can't. . ." his breathe hitched, and he felt sick to his stomach. He glanced away to break that annoyed stare.

The newlywed bride danced by with her beloved husband, laughing breathlessly. Her perfume wafted over to their table.

Kiku's eyes widened in realization, just as Alfred noticed it as well, eyes flashing.

That scent.

It was roses.

Kiku was blindsided by a memory. The memory of a hazy day in July, when he'd had an unexpected visit from Alfred. He'd come to talk, more like beg, him to come out of his deep isolation. He'd refused, of course, denying his people access to his beautiful island. He thought he'd leave, but he came back the next day and the next. He'd be there at every turn. He couldn't get rid of him. He was annoyed, politely asking him to leave him alone. Alfred had told him something that had left him stunned.

'_Why?'_ he'd asked, confused._ 'No one wants to be alone, not even you.'_

The answer had been so insightful and accurate.

He was right.

Kiku was so tired of being alone, he just wanted to be happy, and the other nations seemed nice enough, but he was scared he'd get hurt by them if he let them in.

So, he'd refused entrance to any nation aside from Netherland for years. He had told him to keep the rest of the countries at bay and so far it had worked.

Except for a certain young blonde nation, hard-bent to become the hero of the world.

Then one day, while he was taking a walk through his garden of chrysanthemums, he'd found him sitting under his cherry blossom tree.

He'd been hesitant to come forth. Until he heard him murmur to himself.

'_They're so pretty. And small. . .'_.

That was all he said, but Kiku had smiled for the first time since meeting him.

'_Yes, when they're in full bloom, it is a pretty site to behold,'_ he had told him, walking over to stand by the bench he sat on.

His blue eyes lit up, in surprise and childish joy. Surprise because he hadn't known he knew English and joy because he was talking directly to him for the first time, without having a translator in the way.

'_Is that why it's your nations flower?'_

'_Yes, it shows beauty is a fleeting and delicate thing, and one must make the best of it.'_

'_Huh, I never knew that . . . Oh, here.'_

He'd gotten a bouquet out from beside him.

'_For you. Sorry I've been such a pain, heh. But I'm leaving soon. Right now actually, so I'm glad I caught you before we boarded.'_

Kiku had been surprised at the disappointment he'd felt at his words. He'd taken the roses, they had been absolutely beautiful, and brought them up to his nose to smell them.

'_Well, bye, Japan. Take care!'_

He'd panicked, thinking of his smile and that endearing way he bounced on his feet when he was excited and-

'_Wait, America-san!'_ he'd called out to his back. He had turned in surprise.

'_I-I'm sure we can work a deal out, yes?'_ he had asked, clutching the roses close.

The smile that had lit up his face had made his heart swell.

'_Yeah!'_

Those blue, blue eyes had twinkled with life and hope, and now. . .

"What?" he demanded gruffly, frowning at him. The couple sashayed away, bobbing out to the song.

Kiku blinked in surprise.

He hadn't noticed he'd begun to stare at him. He blushed, embarrassed.

_Could he make this any worse?_

"I'm so-" he began.

"Quite saying that already and get to the point. God, you're so fucking annoying, I swear!" he cut in, a little too loudly. Especially since the song had ended, and, in the lull before the other song began, some patrons had over heard the outburst and were now turning to glancing at them.

Kiku flinched at his tone, leaning back in his seat.

"I'm- I -" he stuttered, feeling closed in, by his heated stare and the whispers of the waitresses, looking at them in concern. One broke from the group and took a step forward, as if to come over and ask them what was wrong.

More humiliation, more shame.

Too much.

He couldn't.

He began to hyperventilate. Alfred narrowed his blue eyes.

He shut his eyes against it all.

"I'm sorry, I-I can't . . ." he let out a small choked sound. He opens his eyes and looked at the table blearily, his eyes full of tears.

He stood to bolt from the table. He heard the murmur of people as he walked quickly to the front door, past cheerful people.

His hand came up to block a sob from escaping.

This was a mistake. He shouldn't have-

He was only a few feet away from the bright pink door, surrounded by the many dancers, when he heard a chilling sound.

Alfred's mocking laughter coming from the back of the store, directed at his retreating back.

"Hah, you coward. . ."

Kiku froze where he was, heart racing.

_He wouldn't. Not in front of all these people. . ._

Without turning back, he heard Alfred stand, thank the taken aback waitress, making his way to the front.

To him.

"Oh, you heard me, alright," he said darkly. It was quiet except for the crooning of Vera Lynn. The customers stood in silence as they watched on, a little alarmed but mostly curious.

Kiku didn't move as he heard Alfred come closer. Before reaching the door, he bent his head to whisper in his ear.

"Even after all that you've done, all that you've caused, you can't even apologize to my face? Shouldn't _I _be the one walking away?" he said coldly, as if he'd known all along and had enjoyed his misery.

Kiku was wide eyed.

"See now _that_," he sneered, making him shiver at the pure loathing in his voice, "that makes you a coward to me."

He gave him a shove with his arm as he sauntered past him opening the door with a cheery jingle.

"Adios, Honda," he called, pushing out into the cold day.

The door closed with another jungle. The diner was left in a stifling silence that suffocated him.

Kiku didn't have to turn to see all the patrons looking at him.

He didn't care. He couldn't care make himself care. Right now all that mattered was that the one person he'd ever loved in the world had just hurt him, intentionally, and left him without a backward glance.

He was shaken and cold.

"All I wanted to say was, I'm sorry. . ." he whispered as the tears finally fell, flowing down his cheeks.

He was unable to stop the sob this time.

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_**Continue?**_


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